


Saving All My Love For You

by littleblackfox



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Blowjobs, Fluff, M/M, thats it, thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 07:14:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11481339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblackfox/pseuds/littleblackfox
Summary: What’s gotten into you, anyways?





	Saving All My Love For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eidheann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eidheann/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Eidheann!  
> I hope it's enough blowjobs
> 
> Special thanks to Obsessivereader for kicking the words into shape, and the Buttaneers for enthusiasm. A lot of enthusiasm.
> 
> Come yell at me about Sebastian Stan's pretty face on [tumblr](http://thelittleblackfox.tumblr.com/)

I know I’m irresponsible and I don’t behave, and I ruin everything I do  
And I’ll probably get arrested when I’m dead in my grave  
But I’m saving all my love for you  
-Tom Waits 

Bucky drifts, halfway between asleep and awake.  
He’s warm, deliciously so. After cryo and Siberia and all the shit that came with it, Bucky finds himself craving the warmth. Soft woolen blankets. The sun slanting through the windows of their apartment on a spring afternoon. Coffee, black and bitter and damn near scalding. And Steve’s body like a furnace, radiating heat and light like the goddamned sun he is.  
He’s still a goddamn punk, though.  
Something flicks across Bucky’s left nipple, hot and wet. He squirms, his instinct to pull away from the touch warring with a desire for more. His skin cools as the moisture evaporates, his nipple hardening at a puff of warm breath before being enveloped in heat and gentle pressure.  
Bucky lets out a soft moan, pushing into the touch. His cock twitches against his thigh, and deft fingers wrap around it, cradling him with tenderness as he swells and stiffens.  
Bucky screws his eyes shut, stretching like a cat. “Steve,” he rumbles, though doesn’t make any attempt to stop what Steve is doing.  
Steve gives his pebbled nipple one last lick before crawling up the bed, trailing a line of kisses up Bucky’s chest and the side of his neck, resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder to nuzzle at his ear.  
“You’re a goddamned menace, Rogers,” Bucky sighs as Steve closes his mouth over his earlobe and sucks.  
Steve doesn’t reply, running his tongue along the outer edge of Bucky’s ear, a devious, underhanded, conniving move that never fails to get him worked up.  
Bucky rolls over to face Steve and kisses him, morning breath be damned. Steve licks into his mouth, slow and indulgent like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be, and Bucky is damn near breathless when they part for air.  
“What’s gotten you all fired up?” Bucky murmurs.  
For a moment Steve’s expression clouds over. Bucky can see the force of will it takes for him to keep his gaze open, his body relaxed, plastered against him, their legs tangling together.  
Something old, then, Bucky reckons. His memory is improving, slowly. Little by little, day by day things come back to him. Steve was the first thing to come back, the way his narrow hips had once fitted so beautifully in Bucky’s hands, his smooth, creamy skin stretched across his ribs and the erratic beating of his heart.  
But for all the things he remembers, there’s so much more lost to him. Maybe it will all come back eventually, maybe not. They love each other all the same.

Bucky runs his thumb along Steve’s lower lip, plush and spit-slick against the metal.  
“Well, it ain’t your birthday, we already had that.”  
There had been fireworks. Not all for Steve, but as far as Bucky was concerned, they should have been. All the New York skyline and more, lit up just to shine in his eyes.   
They had climbed onto the roof of their apartment complex to watch the sky explode in red and white and blue, and Bucky remembered a similar skyline and a smaller body pressed against his side. He remembered passing a bottle of beer back and forth. Steve had suggested bourbon, but Bucky wouldn’t hear it. The little punk had a bad heart and diabetes, no way Bucky was gonna put him at risk.  
It had been disorienting, for a brief moment in time _then_ and _now_ overlapped, the taste of warm beer on his tongue, his left hand made of flesh and made of metal. And Steve at his side, big and small.   
His eyes were still the same shade of blue when he looked at Bucky, and the moment passed, though not unnoticed.  
Every time it happens Steve asks, trying not to light up like one of those fireworks, and every time Bucky answers, piecing together the scattered images and sensations. Steve wants so badly to tell him everything, to fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle of his past, biting his tongue and waiting for Bucky to figure it out himself.  
So. It was something old. 

Steve kisses Bucky’s thumb, still pressed to his plush lower lip, showing it the same attention he would to the flesh and blood of Bucky’s other hand. He parts his lips, closing his mouth around the tip before pulling off with an audible pop.   
“Do I get a clue?” Bucky asks.  
Steve grins and draws back, shifting until he’s lying between Bucky’s legs. He kisses Bucky’s navel, nosing along the dark trail of hair below until his cheek brushes against Bucky’s cock, stiff and jutting up.  
 _Oh_  
Steve wraps his hand around the base and gives it a few lazy strokes before working his way further down the bed and bending down to lick up from the base to the crown.   
Bucky’s hips twitch, thrusting up as Steve chuckles and leans down again. He laps at Bucky’s ballsack, teasing with firm flicks of his tongue before sucking one ball into his mouth and massaging the other with the pad of his thumb. Bucky moans, low and loud, his head hitting the pillow as Steve mouths at the base of his cock, sloppy and wet. He licks at the thick vein along the underside, working his way up to the crown to point his tongue at the slit. There is a pearl-like bead of fluid there that he laps up, his tongue rough against smooth skin. Bucky groans, reaching down to twist his fingers in Steve’s hair as he wraps his full lips around the head and sucks, his cheeks hollowing. Steve keeps one hand firmly around the base of Bucky’s cock, thumb pressing against his balls as he bobs and sucks, swallowing convulsively when the head bumps against the back of his throat.  
Saliva gathers in the corners of Steve’s mouth, dripping down and slicking Bucky’s cock as he pumps his fist.   
Bucky grasps at Steve’s shoulders, his fingers slipping over hot, sweat-drenched skin, and for a second Steve’s frame is smaller, the mattress under them cardboard boxes, the air freezing.

_What’s gotten into you, anyways?_

Bucky lets out a gasp, and tightens his grip on Steve and pulls him up the bed.   
There is a soft, wet sound, obscene in the early morning light as Bucky slips out of his mouth, and Steve climbs up the bed to cradle Bucky’s jaw in his hands.  
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Steve whispers as Bucky clings to him, hands wrapped around his arms hard enough to leave bruises that will be gone by morning.   
“Rockaway Beach,” Bucky answers, his voice a low rasp.

\--------------------

Steve was pissed, that was for sure.  
Bucky couldn’t figure him out half the time. You try to do something nice and you know what they say, no good deed goes unpunished and all that shit. Bucky had felt guilty about Steve’s birthday. A guy doesn’t turn eighteen every day, and all they did was sit on the roof sharing a bottle of beer, warm and sticky from the heat of the day, and watched the fireworks.   
Steve had said it was the best birthday he could have asked for, but Bucky knew he could do better, pulling extra shifts for a whole week to scrape enough together to do something fun. They ended up taking the train to Rockaway beach for the day.  
It had been fun, they’d taken in the sights, gone around the amusement arcade and sat on the sand eating hotdogs. Then Steve got in a foul mood, and it turned out the hot dogs had been bought with the train fare home, which is how they had wound up hitching a lift in the back of a freezer truck.  
So Bucky was freezing his ass off sat on a box of Birdseyes finest and Steve wouldn’t even look at him.  
“C’mon, Steve,” Bucky sighed.  
Steve huffed and shuffled further away from him, arms wrapped around himself like Bucky couldn’t tell he was shivering. There was barely any light to see by, but Bucky Barnes had a sixth sense when it came to Steve Rogers.  
“What’s gotten into you, anyways?”  
Steve turned around and snarled. “I’m stuck in the back of a freezer truck and it's your fault, Barnes. That’s what’s gotten into me.”  
“Hey, settle down, pal.”  
“Three dollars, Buck! Three dollars and you wasted them on that redhead.”  
Bucky laughs. “Is that what this is about? You mad at me because of Dot?”  
Steve bristles and leans in closer. “Well we’re stuck in here because of you.”  
“Because of me? You’re the one spending train fare on hot dogs.”  
“Oh screw you, Barnes.”  
“Get in line,” Bucky hisses.  
Steve stills, and Bucky suddenly wishes he could take it back.  
“Stevie…” he murmurs, reaching out.  
Steve grabs Bucky by the lapels of his jacket, and Bucky has just enough time to wonder if he’s going to get socked in the jaw before their mouths crush together.  
Steve is clumsy, frantic in his kiss, and Bucky has barely had a chance to work out what the hell is going on before Steve shoves him away again, retreating to the darkest corner of the truck and curling up.

Bucky touches the back of his hand to his mouth and it comes away wet. Suddenly everything makes sense. Steve’s bad temper that had come on right after Bucky had started talking to that girl. The bad temper that came on any time Bucky talked to a pretty girl.  
He moves forward slowly, climbing over the boxes until he’s crouched in front of Steve.  
“Hey,” he murmurs softly.  
Steve, knees drawn up to his chin, shakes his head. “Forget it, it didn’t happen.” He brushes his hair out of his eyes. “Forget about it.”  
Bucky cups his hands over Steve’s thighs, keeping his touch light. “Don’t want to.”  
Steve’s head snaps up, fixing Bucky with a glare. “What?”  
Gently, carefully, Bucky pushes Steve’s knees apart, moving into the V of his splayed legs.  
“Don’t want to,” he repeats, and kisses him.  
Steve’s mouth drops open in a gasp and Bucky swipes his tongue inside in a broad, firm stroke. Steve’s hands stumble along his arms, across his shoulders, messing up his carefully combed hair.  
He’s is a fast learner, quickly tiring of following the way Bucky moves his tongue and trying out some moves of his own. He’s a little too rough, a little too free with his teeth, and Bucky loves it.  
Bucky reaches down to the front of Steve’s pants and cups his hand around his cock, feeling the heat of it through the layers of fabric. Steve moans into his mouth as Bucky rubs the heel of his hand along its length, and Bucky breaks off the kiss to better hear him.

Steve's eyes shine in the gloom, his mouth open in a soundless cry as Bucky works open his pants and slips a hand under the waistband of his shorts, cupping him with rough fingers.  
Bucky gets down on his knees, tugging at Steve’s clothes until his cock is revealed, standing proud of his concave stomach. He swallows, his mouth watering, and grabs Steve’s legs, lifting them up to rest on his shoulders.  
“Bucky, what are y-”  
Steve throws his head back and howls like he’s being murdered as Bucky swallows him down, fingers digging into Steve’s thighs as he clamps them over Bucky’s ears.  
Bucky barely has the chance to slide all the way down his length when Steve comes in a sudden spurt, bitter and saline. Bucky swallows reflexively, bobbing his head as the last few drops trickle down his throat.  
Steve swears softly, his legs dropping down as he gasps for breath. Bucky tucks him away in his pants, sitting back on his heels and looking pleased with himself.  
“You alright there, Stevie?”  
Steve rubs his hands over his eyes. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”  
Bucky chuckles and crawls up to kiss him, his lips still flecked with traces of semen.  
“Took you by surprise, huh?”  
Steve huffs, then pointedly licks the come from the corner of Bucky’s mouth. “You’re still an asshole, Barnes.”

\--------------------

“Rockaway Beach?” Steve’s voice is hopeful, coaxing.  
“We went to the beach, a week or so after your birthday,” Bucky wriggles under Steve’s weight, getting himself comfortable. “You got all pissy because I was talking to some readhead.”  
“I was not ‘all pissy’!” Steve hisses, affronted.  
“Yeah, you were,” Bucky kisses the corner of his mouth. “An’ you never tried to talk to me about why you didn’t like it.”  
“Buck…” Steve mumbles.  
Bucky nibbles at the firm line of Steve’s jaw. “Yeah, I know.” He kisses the sharp ridge of his cheekbone. “Like I wasn’t completely gone on you. Little punk.”  
Steve blushes, and breathes out through his nose, as if trying to calm himself down. “What else do you remember?”  
“The way you tasted,” Bucky’s breath is hot in his ear. “Your legs wrapped around me.”  
Steve coughs loudly, spots of colour high on his cheeks. “Okay, so you remember.’ He clears his throat. “That’s good.”  
Bucky grins, eyes heavy-lidded and filled with affection.  
“So,” Steve tries to compose himself. “We were in the middle of something?”  
Bucky snorts. “Smooth, Rogers. Real smooth.”  
Steve huffs and starts to slide down the bed again, but Bucky reaches out to cup his metal hand to Steve’s jaw. “Turn around, babydoll.”  
The mattress squeaks as Steve frowns but starts to roll onto his back. Bucky chuckles. “Not that way.”  
Steve’s eyes widen. “Oh,” he murmurs, then slowly turns around, his hands at Bucky’s hips and legs splayed as he presents Bucky with his ass.  
It’s a damn fine ass, and Bucky takes a moment to appreciate it, stroking his mismatched hands up Steve’s thighs and cupping the firm, rounded cheeks. He runs his palms in slow circles, massaging firm handfuls of muscle and running his thumbs along the crack of Steve’s ass.   
Steve gasps, lowering his head to rest on Bucky’s thigh, and pushes back onto Bucky’s hands, seeking more pressure, more touch. Bucky’s cock, stiff and aching, twitches up from his stomach, and Steve grazes it with his cheek. He quickly loses patience with Bucky’s lazy fondling, and turns his head to lick Bucky’s cock, sucking sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along its length.  
Bucky digs his fingers into Steve’s ass and licks a wet stripe from the crown of his cock to his perineum, grinning at the way Steve shudders and curses.  
“The mouth on you,” Bucky murmurs, and wraps his lips around the head, sucking gently.  
Steve whines, his hips twitching, and Bucky presses his thumbs to the dimples at the base of Steve’s spine.  
Steve wraps a hand around Bucky’s cock, stroking his tongue across the head in slow laps. He opens his mouth, curling his lips over his teeth, and swallows Bucky down, pressing the flat of his hand to Bucky’s stomach as he bobs his head, nose brushing Bucky’s taut balls.   
Bucky barely has a chance to give Steve any warning before he comes, his mouth stuffed full of thick cock. He paws at Steve’s waist, pulling him back. Steve understands well enough, though instead of breaking for air the little shit just clamps down harder.  
Steve is far too composed for Bucky’s liking, so he breathes sharply through his nose and draws Steve further into his mouth, running his metal fingers along his perineum and pressing his thumb to the tight pucker of his hole.  
Steve moans, the sound muffled by Bucky’s softening cock as he thrusts blindly, rocking into Bucky’s welcoming mouth. Bucky relaxes his throat, pressing his tongue against Steve’s shaft, and his mouth fills with fluid as Steve comes.   
Steve still sounds like he’s being axe-murdered when he comes. If Bucky’s mouth weren’t stretched so wide he would have laughed. He swallows, working his tongue along the shaft as Steve twitches and spills again, come and saliva gathering in the back of Bucky’s throat.

Steve finally slackens his jaw, letting Bucky slip free as he rolls over onto his side. Bucky gives his cock one last teasing lick before Steve flinches away, tender and oversensitive. Steve rolls on his back, his feet on the pillow by Bucky’s head, and lets out a contented sigh.   
Bucky props himself up on his elbows and looks down at Steve. “You okay there, Stevie?” He pats the pillow Steve’s using as a footrest. “Wanna come back here?”  
Steve groans, dramatic as ever, so Bucky huffs and sits up, twisting around and lying back down until they’re face to face, and throwing a leg across Steve’s thighs.  
Steve holds up his arm, offering his shoulder as a pillow, and Bucky curls up against him. Steve throws an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in close and squirming when Bucky kisses his throat, hands trailing along his ribs.  
“Happy anniversary,” Bucky murmurs, his lips brushing over honeyed skin.  
“Mmm, yeah.” Steve sighs as Bucky sucks a mark under his ear. “Yeah, it is.”


End file.
